


Dinner At the End of the Universe

by agentverbivore (verbivore8642)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dinner, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 07:44:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5735431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verbivore8642/pseuds/agentverbivore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Fitz had gotten swallowed up by the monolith at the same time as Simmons?<br/>Well, he certainly wouldn't let something small like that ruin their plans for dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner At the End of the Universe

**Author's Note:**

> This has been rolling around in my head for a couple weeks, ever since an anon sent me **[this message](http://agentverbivore.tumblr.com/post/136217906753/what-do-you-think-wouldve-happened-if-fitzsimmons)** on tumblr asking what I think would've happened if they'd both ended up on the Blue Planet. The world-building was also influenced by [blake-wyatt](http://blake-wyatt.tumblr.com/post/136273720399)'s thoughtful [response](http://agentverbivore.tumblr.com/post/136970108881/what-do-you-think-wouldve-happened-if-fitzsimmons) to my original answer!
> 
> This is pretty much a shameless excuse for fluff. :-)  
> Unbetaed.

Fitz was worried about Jemma.

That is to say, he was worried about her aside from the general concern that they had been marooned on a planet with two moons and no sun, and had no way to get back to Earth. They were both working hard on the second thing, since they’d agreed that any door once opened can be walked through from either side. Assuming they could figure out where the door was, anyway. 

They’d also received help from a surprising source, in that the only human on the entire godforsaken planet had come through the portal with NASA’s finest equipment - outdated by a decade and a half though it may be. Despite his superstitious tendencies, which Jemma took great pleasure in muttering derisively about at any given opportunity, Will was a good ally, and Fitz was exceedingly grateful for the preserved astronaut food he’d given them. (Expiration dates are relative when you’re living in an alien desert.) The idea of only having that squid-plant… thing that had almost taken Jemma’s leg off to eat had made Fitz feel faintly green. 

In any case, the general bleakness of their situation aside, things had been going fairly well. Neither of them had died, and they’d been relying on each other to survive the vicious windstorms and mysterious creature stalking the dust-strewn rocky crags that littered the planet. And now they had Will and his cave, which made the planet significantly more tolerable. Yet in the past couple of days, Jemma had begun to behave in ways that set off Fitz’s alarm bells. He’d asked and she’d insisted nothing was wrong, but she was speaking to him less and less, the crease in between her eyebrows had deepened, and he was fairly sure he’d awoken twice now to see her watching him as he slept, even when it wasn’t her turn to keep watch.  

One day (afternoon as they judged it, not that there was any actual noontime to speak of) as he continued to take stock of all of the NASA equipment, Fitz decided that maybe all she needed was a little cheering up. They’d been here for months now, and although they were both working hard at their respective tasks it didn’t seem likely that they would make it back to Earth within the next couple of days. It was acceptable that they take a break, he reasoned, a lesson hard-learned when he’d pushed himself to recover too quickly from his brain injury. Downtime was important, too. 

Having set everything up as best he could without drawing Jemma’s attention from the outer cave, Fitz shuffled over to where Will was re-reading a dirt-streaked paperback. “Hey, uh, Will?” 

He glanced over at Fitz and, noticing either the nerves or seriousness on his face, closed the book. “What’s up?” 

“I was wondering… if you wouldn’t, um, if you don’t mind, I’d… like some privacy in the caves for a couple hours. With Jemma. To make her dinner. Or, well, _make_  might be a bit… but, yeah.”

Will had begun smiling before Fitz was halfway done with his explanation, and he stretched up and off his bed. “No problem, though I’m gonna have to come back in if a storm crops up.” 

“Right,” Fitz replied, nodding eagerly. “Course you will.”

“And, uh….” The other man grabbed his spacesuit and leaned a little closer in. “Maybe try to keep things PG-13? Without protection -”  

Fitz's high-pitched squawk echoed in the small chamber, and he felt his cheeks flush as he frantically flapped his hands to quiet Will. “That won’t be a problem! Really. Just dinner.”  

Laughing, Will strode past him to the exit. “Riiiight, gotcha. See ya later.” 

Fitz followed him out, waiting until he’d said goodbye to Jemma before taking a few steps closer to her. She was trying to use the broken field microscope that NASA had included in their research kit, but despite Fitz’s best efforts the thing worked only sporadically. The number of loose hairs falling out of her ponytail told him exactly how frustrated she was.

“How’s it going?”  

“Poorly,” she answered with a sigh, brushing hair away from her face and giving him a wan smile. “You?” 

He shrugged, rocking back on his heels. “Slow. But I was thinking maybe we could take a break. I’ve, ah, got something to show you - if you’d like?” His voice was altogether too breathy and he was pretty sure he’d spoken too fast, and he had to remind himself over and over again that she’d outright told him that she wanted to give them a go. Panicking when asking a girl out is poor form all around. Fortunately, Jemma seemed to notice none of this, instead giving him a fond smile and reaching forward so he could help her up.

“A break sounds perfect, actually,” she said, retying her hair. “I feel like I’ve been squinting at that thing for a good three hours straight." 

“Not much different from the lab, then,” he deadpanned, turning back towards the main room, and she gave him a light shove. 

“You know what I meant. So what….” Her voice trailed off as Fitz stepped aside, letting her see the table he’d set out for them (“table” being a relative term). 

Ideally, they’d be back on earth and at the restaurant he had been about to pick out. (In truth, he’d only had to choose between two, having spent a good part of the night before researching the area around the Playground to see if there was anywhere worthy of going out to dinner with Jemma, or if he’d need to ask Coulson for permission to take a little more time off.) But considering the circumstances, Fitz thought he’d done fairly well with his limited resources. They had two wooden stools to sit on and a large, wooden crate for their table, set up with a sheet and two sets of plastic tableware. Two lanterns sat on either side of the table, giving the dark room a pleasant, orange glow, flame reflections flickering up the walls. The only glasses they had were water bottles, but at least he’d managed to fold together an origami rose out of the dark orange cover of a NASA regulations booklet, and of that he was rather proud. 

“Since we never got a chance back home, I thought… maybe we could have dinner. S’not exactly somewhere nice, but….” He trailed off on a chuckle, fighting the urge to fidget by curling his fingers into his palms.

Jemma, however, said nothing, and he turned to study her expression. Perhaps she thought the idea silly when they had such serious things to think about - like their very survival. To his horror, her face was twisted, eyes shimmering as she tried not to cry.  

“I – I’m sorry,” he stuttered, ruing his half-baked decision to try for a romantic gesture when they were stranded halfway across the bloody universe. “I just thought you seemed kinda quiet recently, and that – but it was stupid, we don’t have to do it –”

“Oh, Fitz, shut up!” Her exclamation shocked him into silence, and he became even more confused when she threw her arms around his neck. “You wonderful man,” she muttered, breath hitching. Undeterred by the way he’d frozen against her, she just pressed herself closer in, tucking her face against his neck, and at last Fitz moved to wrap his arms around her shoulders. Although they’d hugged hundreds of times over the course of their friendship, hugs like this – of which they’d shared a dozen or so since arriving on the planet – took his breath away. It was ludicrous, really, but he would swear up and down that it felt different knowing that they were something different now, nebulous though it may be while intergalactically stranded. 

“I’ve been quiet,” she said at last, pulling back to meet his gaze, “because I’ve been trying to figure out what to do for your birthday.” Jemma ducked her head at the incredulous expression that he gave her, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth. “I did the math, you know, and – if I’m right, which I am, it should be tomorrow. Or, well – in a few hours. But I just… I couldn’t possibly think of something you’d _like_  out here, and I’ve been trying, but nothing’s good enough!”

“Jemma,” he breathed, warmth filling his chest at the realization that she hadn’t been pulling away from him after all.

Her expression was just shy of miserable, however, and she looked back at the table he’d set up. “And you manage all this, but I couldn’t even think of a wretched birthday present.” 

“To be fair,” he said, shuffling forward and smoothing one hand down her shoulder, “all I’d really want for my birthday is a hot shower.” 

“I know,” she retorted, eyes shimmering over her smile in the lamplight. “You’ve mentioned it approximately once every five hours. Six if you’ve been sleeping.” 

“Hygiene is important....” His muttering was cut off as she folded herself back into his arms, and he pressed his face against her hair, taking supreme joy in simply holding her. How to bridge the silence between them now, held closely together though they may be, puzzled him for a few moments, particularly because he knew very well that she already knew what most of his responses would be. 

“I don’t _need_ anything for my birthday,” he began slowly, “but would it make you feel better if I just said you owe me for next year?”A hitched laugh sounded from her throat, and he grinned, that being the exact reaction he’d been looking for.

“Okay,” she replied, stepping back with a smile of her own. “But if we’re still here for my birthday, that doesn’t mean you get a pass.”

He rolled his eyes and let out a small huff. “Well, [if you want the moon, Mary](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uAERYfeiYBc),” he deadpanned, half-quoting one of her favorite movies, “I can get you two." Shaking his head, he made firm eye contact with her. “But we’re not still gonna be here by your birthday, alright? We’re gonna do what we always do –”

“And we’ll fix this. Together,” she finished for him, her smile growing wider. Jemma just stood there, a few paces away, watching him without any apparent desire to move. The naked affection on her face made his cheeks burn and he had to look away, rubbing at the back of his neck. “So, ah - dinner?” 

“Oh, no,” she breathed, looking abruptly horror-stricken. “But I don’t have anything to wear!” 

At first, he thought she was joking, but then she started self-consciously tucking her ragged blouse into her trousers and he did a double-take. “Jemma - what, seriously? You don’t -”

“I want to look nice for our first date,” she retorted, and as she turned around to do something with her hair he couldn’t quite bring himself to keep teasing her. 

Fitz was about to have a _date_  - with _Jemma Simmons_. Even if it was inside a cave on a hellish planet whose sun seemed to have been misplaced. 

When she turned around again, he was briefly fascinated by how she’d somehow managed to make her hair look a little pouffier on the top, but he managed a warm smile without more than a blink. “Youlookreallypretty,” he said, speaking a little too fast. “I mean, you do all the time anyway, but –”

“Thank you, Fitz,” she answered, and he thought he caught the briefest glimpse of a blush on her cheeks as she squeezed his hand. “Now, where were we?" 

Hurrying forward, he pulled out the stool closest to them – it wasn’t quite as gallant a gesture as pulling out a chair because he had to bend over at the waist to reach it, but it would have to do. He caught the slight eye-roll Jemma gave him, but she sat down anyway, futilely smoothing out the dilapidated edges of her blouse. For a minute or so, he bustled about, finishing up rehydrating their prepackaged (and more than a little stale) NASA-brand steak and poking at the squid-plant he’d attempted to grill, before piling everything on two plastic plates. Back at the table, he caught her tracing the petals of the paper flower, although she pulled her hand away to make room for the plate. 

“I’ve never seen you make something like that,” she said, having thanked him and primly placed her napkin on her lap. 

He settled himself on his own stool, awkwardly tucking his legs to the side, brows creasing at her statement. “Well, I wasn’t trying to - to, y’know, um, do something _nice_  for you before,” he said, emphasizing the word with which he was more comfortable than its alternatives (such as “romance,” “flirt,” or – most horrifyingly – “seduce”). 

“Something nice,” she repeated, mischief hovering around her lips. Glancing at the space between them, she frowned briefly and then scooted her stool around to the other side of the table, setting herself up so that they were essentially sitting next to each other at the corner of the box. “So you’ve never tried to be nice to me before? It’s a wonder we’ve been friends for so long.”

“What? No! I –”

“Use the word you meant, Fitz,” she said gently, closing her fingers around the hand he’d laid on the table. “I want to be here just as much as you do.”  

Swallowing, he forced himself to meet her steady gaze, the warmth in her eyes giving him the confidence he needed. “Thought I’d try for something a little more romantic,” he said at last, allowing himself to admire her the way he had when he’d asked her to dinner in the first place. “Seemed right.”

“I love it,” she murmured, squeezing his fingers one more time before lifting up her plastic fork. 

They were quiet at first, busy trying to chew the tough food as best they could, but eventually Jemma asked about his progress on cataloguing the machines, and Fitz wanted to know what she’d learned about the soil (if anything). So they devolved into a comfortable back-and-forth about science, familiar territory for an unfamiliar setting. Every so often she would brush her fingers against his hand, making tingles spread through his body, until at the end of the meal he dredged up the courage to turn his hand over and entwine their fingers completely. At first she didn’t seem to notice, too busy theorizing about the cycles of the moons. To him, the moment was perfect – getting to watch Jemma spin out her brilliant ideas while holding her hand at the same time. Blinking, she trailed off mid-sentence and stared down at the corner of the table where their hands rested, and another wide smile spread across her face.  

When she glanced up at him, she was gnawing her bottom lip between her teeth, seemingly trying to decide something before she spoke. “So,” she said finally, stretching up off of the stool and tugging him up after her, “are you going to walk me home?” 

At his raised eyebrow, she tilted her head towards the hard mattress that she’d called her own since they’d moved into the caves. Considering that it lay right next to his and Will’s respective mattresses, it wasn’t exactly her “home,” but he forced himself to resist pointing that out. Instead, he twisted their arms together so that he could feel the press of her against his, and began the slowest amble he could possibly walk, trying to prolong the eleven steps as much as he could.  

Fitz knew she was watching him, but he didn’t meet her eyes again until they’d stopped at the end of her bed. Smiling nervously, Jemma pulled around to face him, tangling her fingers in front of her.

“I had a lovely time tonight,” she breathed, watching him with an intent and distinctly expectant expression. 

All of a sudden, Fitz realized that she was waiting for him to kiss her. A jolt of adrenaline darted through his system, and he took a deep breath. This wasn’t _supposed_ to be how they kissed for the first time, when they were both wearing ragged, sleeveless versions of the same clothes they’d had on for weeks, when they were trapped together at the edge of nowhere with only the slimmest chance of escape. But as he looked at her, and processed the way her own breathing had sped up ever-so-slightly, he reminded himself that it was probably now or never for them. So, tentatively steadying himself using her waist, he closed the distance between their mouths. 

It was brief, just enough for her wide, soft lips to brush against his and for her to shuffle a little closer before he pulled away, and he stared down at her with wide eyes. Jemma blinked up at him, seemingly studying his expression, and then she slid one hand up around the back of his head and brought their lips together again. He felt like he was floating, his whole body alight with the sensation of their mouths moving together, and he wrapped his arms around her. The twitch of her hand against his neck suggested he’d surprised her, but she just hummed, tilted her head to the side, and held him that much tighter.

To hell with being stranded on this godforsaken lump of rock, Fitz decided – today was the best day of his life. (Well, maybe after the one where he’d finally figured out how to effectively miniaturize the Mouse Hole – or after the day he’d met Jemma for the first time. In any case, it was definitely in the top five.) 

When she pulled away to breathe, Fitz held still, letting her lean their foreheads together and keeping his eyes closed, lest the whole thing disappear. Her breath feathered against his lips and her fingers slid down against his cheek, scraping against the stubble and making him shiver. Finally opening his eyes, he was struck dumb again by the way she watched him, their lashes so close together they could almost meet. Her expression was bordering on enraptured, lips quirking up in a mix between joy and disbelief, and Fitz just drank her in, trying his damnedest to memorize exactly how she looked in that moment.

The cave door’s latch twisted loudly open, signaling Will’s return, and Jemma let out low sigh before disentangling herself from his embrace. Fitz knew he should feel disappointed, but as he turned to clean up the remnants of their food, he was simply too busy being thrilled about how well the dinner had gone to think about anything else. Giving him a brief smile, she reached out to pluck the paper flower from the table before he could clean it away, twirling it between her fingers as she went into the outer cave to greet their friend. The sight made Fitz grin, and he began trying to think up ways to outdo himself for their next date, pouring water from a bucket into their wash-bin. And if his next romantic gesture resulted in her wanting to kiss him again, well... he certainly wasn’t going to object.

Fitz might be stuck at the end of the universe, but at least he was here with Jemma. Being with her at all was always better than being anywhere else.


End file.
